Fiction Books

The Happy Thought, as will be remembered by those who have read "The Longmeadow Toll-Gate," was a new departure in bicycle construction. Although provided with pedals that could be used in an emergency, its real motive-power was derived from naphtha applied through a pair of cylinders built upon a modification of the hot-air principle, and working directly upon the rear wheel. The oil was... more...

CHAPTER I "To deliver thee from the strange woman!"—The Bible. "Who found the kitten?" "Me," quavered the childish voice. Lady Susan Hetth tchcked with her tongue against her rather prominent teeth at the lamentable lapse in grammar, and looked crossly at Leonie, who immediately lifted up the quavering voice and wept. Sobs too big for such a little girl shook the slender body,... more...

Tracks of a Lower Silurian reptile in Canada.—In the year 1847, Mr. Robert Abraham announced in the Montreal Gazette, of which he was editor, that the track of a freshwater tortoise had been observed on the surface of a stratum of sandstone in a quarry opened on the banks of the St. Lawrence at Beauharnais in Upper Canada. The inhabitants of the parish being perfectly familiar with the track of... more...

CHAPTER I CELLS Our body is made of many parts. Its head thinks. Its legs carry it, and its arms and hands take hold of things. The leg cannot do the work of the arm, nor the head do the work of the hand; but each part does only its own work. 1. The simplest animal.—Some animals have parts like a man's; but these parts are fewer. No animal has arms or hands like a man. A fish has little fins in... more...

"Attention, Inner-Flight ship! Attention! You are ordered to land at the Control Station on Deimos for inspection. Attention! You are to land at once!" The metallic rasp of the speaker echoed through the corridors of the great ship. The passengers glanced at each other uneasily, murmuring and peering out the port windows at the small speck below, the dot of rock that was the Martian checkpoint,... more...

CAUGHT IN THE ACT. "Help! Police! Murder!" It was a dark, rainy night in March when this thrilling cry, in a man's voice, came from a house in West Thirty-sixth street, New York. Two detectives were passing along from Seventh avenue, toward Broadway, when the wild appeal brought them to a sudden pause. "Hark, Old King Brady!" one of them exclaimed. "Did you hear that cry?"... more...

It wasn't much of a bump. The shock absorbers of the liquid-smooth convertible neutralized all but a tiny percent of the jarring impact before it could reach the imported English flannel seat of Coulter's expensively-tailored pants. But it was sufficient to jolt him out of his reverie, trebly induced by a four-course luncheon with cocktails and liqueur, the nostalgia of returning to a... more...

ON THIS SIDE. VIII. Not the least delightful of Sir Robert's qualities was his capacity for enjoying most things that came in his way, and finding some interest in all. When Mr. Ketchum joined him in the library, where he was jotting down "the sobriquets of the American States and cities," and told him of the Niagara plan, his ruddy visage beamed with pleasure. "A delightful idea.... more...

You hear a lot of talk these days about secret weapons. If it's not a new wrinkle in nuclear fission, it's a gun to shoot around corners and down winding staircases. Or maybe a nice new strain of bacteria guaranteed to give you radio-active dandruff. Our own suggestion is to pipe a few of our television commercials into Russia and bore the enemy to death. Well, it seems that Ivar Jorgensen... more...

CHAPTER I THE COMING OF THE SHEEP From his seat on the top of a high ridge, Gordon Wade looked into the bowl-shaped valley beneath him, with an expression of amazement on his sun-burned face. Pouring through a narrow opening in the environing hills, and immediately spreading fan-like over the grass of the valley, were sheep; hundreds, thousands of them. Even where he sat, a good quarter mile above... more...